


Touch me and I surrender

by Tenoko1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Candles, Caregiving, Consent, Explicit Consent, Fallen Castiel, Intimacy, M/M, Massage, Massage Oils, Mild Angst, Music, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Not together YET, back massage, pining!dean, podfic to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What?” questioned Cas, blue gaze flicking into Dean’s room as they came to a stop at the hunter’s bedroom door.</p><p>“A massage. I want to give you a massage,” Dean repeated, whole face red with embarrassment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch me and I surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Podfic to come. And possibly more edits.

**Title** : Touch Me and I Surrender

 **Rating** : PG

 **Tags** : Massage, non-sexual, care giving, hurt/comfort, human!Cas, non sexual yet intimate, body oils, candles, music, Dean does something nice for someone he cares about just to take care of them.

 **Pairing** : Dean/Castiel

 **Note** : Unbeta'd, but I used the Hemingway app during the editing process. Not really sure I like that app. I think it makes my writing not sound like mine. Also, it's insistent I use way too many adverbs and overly complicated sentences that are very hard to read. I really don't think I like it.

 

            “What?” questioned Cas, blue gaze flicking into Dean’s room as they came to a stop at the hunter’s bedroom door.

            “A massage. I want to give you a massage,” Dean repeated, whole face red with embarrassment. “Yeah, way gayer and stuff than I’d meant for my gratitude to be, because two guys don’t just do that for each other, but you’re human now and I got to thinking about your wings, and amputees and phantom limb pain and memory, and I was wondering if angels felt something like that when they lost their wings and I’m rambling because this is way more nerve wracking than I expected,” he blurted out in a rush, Cas blinking at him, surprised and confused.

            Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean glanced away, then into his room and toward his bed, which suddenly seemed a lot more suggestive than what he had in mind. “Being human is great,” he tried again with a deep breath. “It’s full of all these simple things that are just _nice_ , especially when you have been under a lot of stress and just need to relax and let your brain not worry about the past or the fate of the world or things and people you’ve lost. Lisa was certified and taught me, and we often gave each other massages just for stress relief, you know?” He tried to look at Cas and failed, focusing his gaze instead on the shoulder seam of the half-zipped hoodie the other man wore. “Your lost grace made me think lost wings, lost wings made me think of your back, and you can _absolutely_ turn me down for this and say no-”

            “Yes,” Cas said. Dean looked up with a start, eyes wide with surprise. The other man regarded him calmly. “This is something you seem to have put a lot of thought into, and though I’ve no experience with these things, if you think it is something I will enjoy then I will trust you with it.” He frowned into the room and then back at Dean. “Though you seem far more embarrassed by whatever you are planning. What all will this entail?”

            Extending out a hand, Dean gestured for Cas to enter his room. Once inside, he pushed the door closed with a soft ‘click’. Green eyes cast around the room, finding and landing on the bag of things he’d already gotten in case Cas actually said 'yes'.

            Rubbing his hands together, Dean shifted his focus, attempting to force his brain into the same mindset Lisa had when she did this for clients.

            “Okay. The entire purpose of a massage is self-care. It’s taking care of you, to help you relax and to release stress. What I had in mind was just a back massage- because dude, they are freaking sweet, Lisa could put me to sleep like _that_ ,” he said, snapping his fingers, before holding his hands up, palms open again, “and you are free to tell me ‘no’ at any point, now or later if you change your mind. But a massage isn’t just the actual massage, it’s a whole package that is part of it, like the setting, ambiance or something. I’m basically mimicking everything Lisa would do for her clients or for me. Candles, some zen music stuff, and the massage oil that was always my favorite.”

            “I would need to be in some state of undress for this then,” Cas acknowledged with a nod, gaze drifting to the bed.

            Dean’s skin burned hot again, like tiny pin pricks covering his face. “Just the shirt and jacket is all.”

            Blue eyes shifted to focus on Dean again. “But the... intimacy of this, being that we are friends and I am not a client, plus that we are both male, is that what is making you uncomfortable?”

            The hunter couldn’t look at him, casting his gaze away again. “It’s just _weird_ , Cas. This was my idea, and I still think it’s a great one you’ll enjoy, but it’s weird, dude. I can’t explain why.” Castiel continued to observe him, head angled to the side as he waited. Drawing in a deep breath, Dean shook out his hands by his sides and he tried to find the words. “You said it yourself: it’s intimate, I guess. My wanting to help like this isn’t the same as bandaging you up, or making a grab for you when we’re fighting whatever wants us dead that week. It’s not the same kind of contact we normally have, and almost feels like I’m crossing a line, since, one, you aren’t a client, and well, the only other person I’ve done this with was someone I was dating. It’s not something friends just _do_. It’s...” Words failed him and he looked around, hands grasping in vain at the air, trying to find them. “It’s... important. Personal. Private.”

            Cas moved, trying to catch Dean’s eye again. “In that case, are _you_ comfortable with this?” The hunter looked at him and Cas shook his head. “I do not want you doing things you are uncomfortable with because you feel obligated, Dean. You owe me nothing.”

            Shaking his head, Dean assured, “No, Cas. This is something I wanted to do for you. Strange as it is, it seemed... fitting. I didn’t know what else to do. It’s just a gesture.”

            Castiel inclined his head. “Then I accept.” He looked around. “What would you like me to do?”

            Heart thudding double-time against his ribs, Dean nodded. “Uh,” he began, moving to the bed and rearranging the pillow. “Take off your shirt and jacket and just lay down on your stomach. Put your arms however is comfortable. I’ll ask if I can move or arrange them if I need to,” he promised, spinning around and pulling all the items from the bag.

            Dean kept his full focus on the act of arranging candles around the room, lighting them one at a time while Castiel undressed. He carefully extracted his arms from the burgundy jacket before folding it and laying it in the chair against the wall. As Castiel pulled his t-shirt over his head, Dean took his time getting the music set up, clenching his jaw as his ears picked up on every small rustle of fabric as articles of clothing were removed and set aside with care.

            This was simply Dean trying to take care of Cas. This was meant as a sort of mending. Dean couldn’t fix Cas’ grace, and he couldn’t give him back his wings, but he wanted to show that had he been able to, he would have. He would have cared for and taken care of Cas _the_ _angel_ if he’d had the ability.

            He didn't, though, was never even given the chance, so, instead, Dean would take care of Cas the human to the best of his ability.

            He waited until Castiel was laying on the mattress and appeared to be in comfortable position before he turned off the overhead light, casting the room in the warm glow of candlelight as sounds of the flute and water began to fill the air. When he turned back to the bed, he had a moment of double vision. Instead of Castiel, he saw Lisa, laying contentedly with her head resting on her folded hands, and the long expanse of her back exposed, utterly relaxed and waiting.

            Blinking, he swallowed and was looking at Castiel again. The other man had his eyes open, gaze flicking about as he listened to the music. When Dean didn’t move away from the door, Cas glanced back at him, their eyes locking. He wondered if Cas could hear the pounding of his heart from way over there.

            “This is very pleasant to listen to. I like it,” said the other man softly, candles casting strange shadows across his features.

            The simple confession made Dean huff a small laugh, corner of his mouth crooking in a smile as he pushed away from the door and toward the bed.

            “All part of the experience,” Dean told him, grabbing the bottle of massage oil as he passed the chest of drawers.

            As Dean stepped to the side of the bed, Cas let his gaze drift to one of the flickering candles. “What do I do?”

            Popping the lid of the bottle open, Dean smiled. “Nothing. That’s the point. Just relax and don’t think about anything that’s been worrying you. Don’t think at all, if you can help it. Close your eyes. Listen to the music,” he insisted, rubbing the scented oil in his hands to warm it. He faltered again. “Tell me to ‘stop’ if you want me to, now or later. Okay?”

            Castiel nodded and settled down onto the mattress. Once he had closed his eyes, Dean lifted one knee to the bed, kneeling over Cas before gingerly smoothing his hands over his friend’s shoulders. The smell of roses and sandalwood filled the air, followed by the subtler scents of jasmine and lavender.

            “That smells really nice,” commented Cas, voice warm and surprised.

            Dean bit his bottom lip, but couldn’t bite back the smile that crossed his lips. He’d already told Cas this was his favorite massage oil, but he wouldn’t tell him he’d been forced to go to an Adult store in order to find a bottle of it. Since Lisa was a licensed professional, she’d ordered all her products from vendor catalogs. Dean had been forced to go to the sex store that tried to pass itself off as a boutique. He’d asked where the massage oils were, then read the backs of each of them, smelling them until he found one with the combination of scents he remembered.

            Dean kneaded Cas’ shoulders, fingers sliding easily over skin coated in oil. The scent made Dean relax out of habit. He let his thumbs move in circles, slow and languorous, trying to ease Cas into the unfamiliar sensations. He squeezed and pulled, pressing in with his thumbs as he worked over the other man’s shoulders, easing the tight strain he felt there. When Castiel drew in a deep breath and sighed in contentment, Dean’s smile widened.

            Reaching for the bottle on the nightstand, Dean turned it over, drizzling trails of scented liquid across toned back muscles. He watched as it glided to the rivet of Cas’ spine and pooled together. Setting the container aside, Dean let his hands trail over the expanse of Castiel’s skin, from his shoulders to the small of his back, then up again, pressing in with his palms as he spread the oil across exposed flesh. He moved slowly up and down Cas’ back, letting his fingers smooth the liquid over defined muscles and the length of Cas’ sides.

            Between the music, candles, and scent, Dean fell into the rhythm of his movements, gradually applying more pressure. He pressed in with the heels of his palms, working in small circles up and down Cas’ back along either side of his spine. He took extra care when his hands reached just beneath Cas' shoulder blades, where Dean thought his wings would have been. He traced around the bones, following the curve of the muscles beneath skin, using the palms of his hands and then the tips of his fingers to trace patterns across the other man's back.

            He worked in silence, relaxed and focused as candlelight flickered and the music played. Dragging his hands down to the base of Cas’ spine, Dean used his weight to press in more firmly as he smoothed his palms back up, eliciting a small groan of pleasure from the former angel. A flush of embarrassment colored Dean’s cheeks at the deep sound of enjoyment that was almost pornographic. Biting back a smile of victory, Dean purposefully did it again, determined to turn Cas boneless with relaxation, regardless of how long it took him.

            In the warmth and quiet of the room, Dean let his own thoughts drift away as he stroked his palms over skin. His fingers rubbed into shoulders, before trailing lower and working in careful patterns, keeping up constant pressure and sensation. He pressed and stroked flesh, finding the tense muscles and knots before coaxing them to relaxation. He placed his hands on either side of Castiel’s spine, pressing in with the pads of his thumbs as he brought them down, letting his fingers trail more gently where they pressed against Cas' body.

            He added more oil to the spot below Cas’ shoulders, stroking and pulling, moving from his back to his shoulder and then to his upper arm, obliged when Cas shifted to let Dean move his arm without having to break the silence. He rubbed more oil into his hands before smoothing his hands over Cas’ muscular bicep, gently massaging there just as he had with his back.

            He didn’t leave an inch of flesh unattended as he moved down the length of Castiel’s arm, fingers working over his bicep, then forearm, before lifting Cas’ hand off of the mattress and taking it in both of his. He carefully worked the oil over skin, feeling the bones shift and move beneath his fingers as he massaged the back of Cas’ hand and then his palm. He coated each of Cas’ fingers, rubbing and squeezing each of them in turn. He pressed in with the pad of his thumb as he stroked them from the knuckle to the tip and back again.

            Gently setting Cas’ hand back down on the bed, Dean moved in reverse up the length of his arm again, alternating gentle and firm caresses until his hands were on Castiel’s shoulders, trailing lower to the base of his spine as Dean moved and shifted. He removed his hands only long enough to step around to the other side of the bed, taking the bottle of oil with him. The former angel’s breathing was low and even, dark eye lashes drawn together and features completely void of the usual frown lines or furrowed brow. Dean couldn't recall a time Cas’ expression had ever looked that soft.

            Smiling, he gave the other man's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, before trailing his hands over Cas’ back and to his arm. He worked on it the same as he had the other, keeping up the steady pressure and release as his fingers wrought the tension from muscles, before taking his hand in both of his once more. Same as before, Dean held the other man’s hand in his, maintaining a steady rhythm, before carefully running the pad of his thumb between the bones of Castiel's hand.

            Setting his hand down, Dean ran his palm up the length of the other man's arm in a languid movement and tried not to focus on the utter sensuality of what they were doing, the ease with which this private intimacy could turn sexual. This was not meant to be sexual. His _mind_ knew, but Dean’s body was wanting to react as though circumstances were different. He could feel his own arousal, starting gently, making him warm all over, then coiling, moving lower. Ignoring his inappropriate and unwanted erection, Dean kept working, ignoring his body’s reaction and trying to will it away.

            This was not _that_ , he told himself. While sensual- _very_ sensual, he thought, watching his fingers press into Cas’ skin and drag down the length of his back- it was not _sexual_. He and Cas were many things, and maybe there had been something unacknowledged between them for too long, but for _now_ they were what they were. Friends. And Dean had meant what he said, he’d thought of this only as a way to care for Cas. The hunter couldn’t mend broken wings or return Cas to his place among his siblings, but he could work the tension from his muscles and the knots from his shoulders. He could reduce the other man to such a state of lethargic relaxation that Castiel would be able to sleep the whole night without being awoken by nightmares.

            And, well, if Dean’s body got confused in the process, Dean could deal with that, too. Repressing things when it came to Castiel were habit after doing it for so long. Having the other man there, though, living with them in the bunker, seeing him on a daily basis... it was all suddenly so much harder. Ignoring inconvenient, possibly inappropriate, feelings for someone was a lot easier when life seemed so determined to keep you apart.

            Denial was easier when the person you wanted wasn’t sharing the same space as you on a daily basis, when they weren’t so close, yet might as well be leagues apart. It was easy to deny when they weren’t pliant under your fingers, relaxed and trusting, all the while painfully unaware of the power they had to destroy you with the smallest effort.

            Sucking in a breath, Dean shook himself. This was about Castiel. He would not allow his focus to shift inwardly. Cas deserved better than that.

            “You know,” Cas began, turning his head and angling it to give Dean better access to the muscles of his neck and shoulders, “I have existed since before the earth was ever created. For millions of years, Dean.” He fell quiet for a moment, Dean regarding him as he continued to rub circles with his thumbs. Eyes still closed, Cas drew in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. “All those years, yet I had never had a friend until I met you.”

            Snorting a small laugh, Dean smiled and returned his gaze to the planes of Castiel’s back. “I’m pretty sure the idea never occurred to you until you'd spent enough time on earth. I bet it took a while to even realize we _were_ friends.”

            Cas gave a soft hum of agreement. “I find myself so often looking back through the millenia wondering what I did deserve a friend who’s as good to me as you, as if I have trouble believing or accepting it. I often feel I do not deserve it.”

            Dean’s hands stilled, fingers tightening on Castiel’s shoulders as he blinked, brows furrowing together. “Cas, man, not sure how you got your wires crossed on that one, but trust me, I’m the one who lucked out.”

            The former angel gave another wordless sound of response, and Dean redirected his attention. He let the pads of his fingers trail across Cas’ skin, rubbing circles into the muscles between his shoulder blades. His green eyes fixed on a birthmark and stayed there. He tried not to think as words spilled from his mouth, “You lost everything because of me. Not just once, but over and over again. You didn’t just lose it. You gave it all up, and every time I was shaking my head not understanding why. I’m nothing. Literally _nothing_.”

            Blue eyes snapped open. Dean’s hands stilled and drew back as the angel pushed himself up onto his elbows.

            “You are _not_ nothing, Dean. You cannot see yourself as I do, but that does not make what I know of you any less true. You are amazing. You are loyal and smart and clever. You are selfless. When my world and everything I had ever known fell apart, my constant was you. Every time, you have been what holds me together. Even now, with this intimacy, you are trying to make up for what you cannot return to me. It is something I would gladly give up again for your sake.” Fierce blue eyes met his and held. “You are my best friend, Dean. You are invaluable.”

            For several heartbeats, neither of them spoke. The look on Cas’ face left Dean unable to breath until he finally dragged his gaze away. Swallowing, Dean gently pushed at Castiel’s shoulder. He needed to retreat from this moment they had found themselves in. It was already too personal without a brazenly honest talk as well. Cas only resisted a moment, then settled against the mattress. He sighed and slid his hands under the pillow his head was resting on. Dean knew he’d been smelling the scent of the oil on Cas’ skin from the pillow for days. It would hurt, the memory, of having the other man here so privately, so intimately, but he would treasure it, too. Keep it close and safe, remembering it for years to come, when both Cas and Sam had moved on and Dean would be on his own. He’d think back on what he’d almost had and know that almost having was enough. That he was happy with almost. It was more than he’d ever expected. More than he thought he deserved. He didn’t have a right to this. Didn’t deserve it. So, he would horde the memory of these moments. He would guard them in the hopes that they would sustain him in a time when all he had left was memories.

            Sliding a hand up, he gave Cas’ shoulder a squeeze. The clenching of his throat kept him from saying anything else. When he withdrew his hand, he returned to his task.

            The earlier peaceful expression was gone from Castiel’s demeanor though. The barest hint of his usual frown turned his mouth down at the corners, even as Dean had him groaning and sighing in contentment.

            At the end, once Dean’s hands no longer had normal sensation and Cas’ muscles could not be coaxed into a further relaxed state, Dean retreated, giving Cas’ arm a pat as he stood and distanced himself. Castiel continued to lie there for a moment, one eye opening to peer across the room to where Dean stood by the doorway.

            “I’m not sure I have the ability to move anymore,” stated Cas, eyes shining with amusement and warmth.

            Dean ducked his head and chuckled, kicking at the corner of his rug with his boot. “Yeah. You should sleep pretty well tonight after that.” At the shuffle of movement and fabric, Dean hooked his thumb over his shoulder at the door, gaze looking everywhere but at Cas. “You’ll want a shower first, though. Long hot one, to make sure of it.”

            Having put on his t-shirt, Castiel came forward. Dean was already had a hand on the doorknob, but didn't open it, unwilling to break the spell of the room just yet.

            “Thank you, Dean,” the other man said, voice quiet.

            Dean flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal. I hope it...” he faltered. Makes you forget the loss of your wings? That you lost your family? That I have dragged you so far down into the mud with me I can never begin to repent for it? “Helps,” he said finally, turning the knob.

            Cas stopped him with a hand on his wrist. The movement made Dean look at him in surprise, their gazes locking. Cas’ thumb stroked over the inside of Dean’s wrist, hand squeezing.

            “Thank you,” he said again, more earnest this time.

            So close, it took everything in Dean not to close the space between them, to bury a hand in Cas’ dark hair and bring their mouths together. He wanted to feel, touch, taste, and smell him all at once. To hold and cling, curling his fingers into the material of Castiel’s shirt, or pressing into the line of Cas’ hip and never let go. He wanted to stay in this safe haven of soft music and the warm glow and flicker of candles.

            He released the doorknob and turned his hand so he could clasp Castiel’s wrist. He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

            When their hands fell away, Cas reached for the door, his gaze sliding from Dean’s. When the harsh light from the hall invaded his room, Dean turned his head away. He looked back when he realized Cas had faltered in the doorway, frowning as though he’d remembered something and was considering it.

            “What’s wrong?” Dean questioned.

            The former angel peered at Dean over his shoulder before pivoting. He pressed into Dean’s personal space, leaning forward to brush mouth against his cheek.

            “Perhaps next time you will allow me to return the favor and give you a massage, Dean.” Giving a smile, he turned away, sounding content as he announced, “I’m going take a shower, and then sleep until noon if I can. Good night, Dean.”

            Swallowing, Dean called, “G’night, Cas,” before shutting the door and leaning back against it, closing himself back up with the warmth and comfort, letting it calm his pounding heart, the shaking of his hands.

            Before giving himself time to think about it, Dean moved toward the bed, blowing out candles and kicking off his shoes before climbing onto the mattress and curling onto his side. The pillow smelled of massage oil and of Cas. The bed still warm where he’d lain. Dean took the scents and the memories, the unspoken possibility of something else, he wrapped them around himself like a blanket, closed his eyes, and slept.

 

END

 

_**NOTE:** This was just an idea I wanted to try. Let me know what you thought of it._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Touch me and I surrender [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545801) by [Tenoko1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1)




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